


For Two

by herbailiwick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Ice Skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://johncroftianlullaby.tumblr.com/post/36791962147/winter-drawing-writing-challenge">Winter Writing/Drawing Challenge</a> Day 05 - Ice Skating</p><p>On their holiday, Anthea wants to take Mycroft ice skating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Two

" _No_ ," Mycroft said. 

"I already put it on the schedule," she pointed out.

"I can see that. No matter; I'm not joining you."

"What are you so afraid of, looking like a fool in front of dozens of children and their fussy parents?"

He narrowed his eyes, and it meant "yes".

"If that's all you're afraid of," Anthea said, smiling as she saw the building come into view, "then you'll _have_ to join me when you find out that it'll just be us."

"No, it won't be," he complained. Then, he paused. "Really? How'd you do that?"

"I have my secrets," she smiled. "I thought while we were on holiday we could make the most of it. I don't often get to join you."

"And this is why," he pointed out, eyeing the building warily.

"You don't try enough new things."

"How do you know this is new?" he asked sharply.

"Because of the way your mind is racing right now." She grinned wickedly. "I'm gonna get you out onto the ice, sir."

"I'd rather watch you," he said. "I'd rather see you have your fun."

"You get to show off all the time," Anthea said. "It's my turn." 

Mycroft warily followed her in, watched with a frown as she spoke to her connections, wrinkled his nose at the idea of putting on skates that had been worn before by countless people.

"This isn't right," he said, staring at the pair of ice skates. "I can't do this."

"At least I got you to slip into something that wasn't a suit," she pointed out. 

True, but he wouldn't give her that. "I'd prefer to be sitting in the stands all the same."

"You've told me before that one of the things you like about me is I'm so playful. I make you feel like it's okay to have fun." She smirked, tying her skates on. "I won't force you, no, but don't you think you'll regret not trying? I'm going to teach you. I'll hold your hand, even. I'll try not to let you fall."

His brows rose. "Try?"

She bit her lip in amusement. "Yes, try. So will you trust me?"

He tilted his head slightly. "You're going to use this as ammunition in the future if I don't. But you won't if I do."

"Well, what do you know? You're still plenty capable of showing off, even looking like this with skates in your hands."

He smiled a bit shyly. "Shut up," he told her firmly. "But, okay, I'll do it."

She let out a little cheer. "Here, I'll help you get them on."

"I'm perfectly capable—"

"Emphasis on the perfect. You're too methodical and slow," she said, and he didn't argue with her on that.

***

Her laughter was not quite as cutting as a stranger's would have been. Her strength, the hands guiding him by holding his own, by urging at his shoulder, his upper back, was grounding. The overly ornate gold design catching the light on her hooded jumper illuminated her; he found he liked the way she looked in lavender.

"I really hate you," he snapped as he looked up at her from the ground again.

"There's a lot about me to hate," she said with yet another wicked grin, helping him up.

***

"Admit it: That was one of the best nights of your sorry life."

"It was not!" he complained too quickly, too vehemently. He lowered his voice, taking another sip of tea as he said, "I fell on my backside so many times I can hardly feel it." He caught sight of her mouth opening to make a comment and added, "That was not an invitation to make comment about feeling my backside." Her mouth snapped shut.

"You really didn't do too poorly," she praised. "You do have a natural grace about you that really helped."

"Thank you," he said with a bit of a nod. He was lying sort of on his side, as his backside really did hurt a bit.

She cleared her throat. "Did you know that I'm not just flirting for laughs when I flirt with you?" 

He stared at her, trying to see her angle. There wasn't one, was there? He sipped at his tea. "How interesting," he finally commented.

"We're sharing a hotel room," she said.

"Your idea," he said with a shrug. "I didn't see reason not to, with separate beds."

"You sleep better when someone shares a room with you."

He nodded in silent agreement. No use refuting it.

"I wonder if you sleep better when someone shares your bed," she said, curious.

He looked at her for a moment, assessing her motives, or what he could see of them. "Anthea, darling, you really do come on a bit strong," he pointed out carefully.

She sighed. "Yeah. Well, I feel strongly about you. And you've never exactly said you don't like the attention."

He turned away from her, sipping his tea, flushing a little in the low light. He finally cleared his throat and said, "I appreciate that I have never felt pressured by you in any area except the mundane: ice skating, scuba diving, your own cooking,"—she laughed—"and countless things more. I do feel respected by you, even if I hadn't realized until just now that you have been serious in more than admitting a sense of attraction."

"I get that," she said quickly. "And I'm not trying to rock the boat, by any means. I really like what we have. I just wouldn't mind more. And, you know me. Not subtle."

"No, you're not." He smiled into his mug.

"I won't wait for you to decide for forever," she said, taking up her own mug, "but I'll wait for a good long time."

He chuckled. "I should probably just give in. It'd be the practical thing to do. You and I get on, and we have chemistry, and we spend so much time together. If you ignore the fact we work together and at the same time acknowledge the positives of such a relationship, that's something in our favor. I just...don't want to disappoint you," he said with a slight wince. "And I don't want to be disappointed either."

She reached out, offering her hand. He eyed it. "Sir," she started, then said instead, "Mycroft. You held my hand a lot today. You fell on your adorable arse a few times—" 

"More than a few."

"—...and," she continued with deliberation, "I'm not going to pretend that you won't fall on your arse when you're trying to be with someone as positively mad as I can be. But I saw the look on your face when you were managing it. I saw the smiles you tried to hide, the pride in yourself that showed through the cracks in your disappointment and fear. You liked it."

"Mm, I maybe wouldn't say like. But it was oddly worth it; you're right."

"And if that's only one evening, imagine what you could do with another," she said brightly.

"Heavens no!" he exclaimed, sitting up straight, then wincing and positioning himself again carefully with a sigh.

"We don't have to," she said. "But my point was...if you kept going —hypothetically, only hypothetically! —eventually you'd fall on your arse much less."

"So, you're saying that, in time, we'd learn how to weather the storms of a relationship. Interesting."

"People do stay together."

"I...know that," he said a bit uncertainly.

"I don't think you do."

He sighed.

"You should get to bed," she said gently. "And, yes, I mean your own bed."

He rose to his feet, turned, looked at her for a long moment. She squirmed a bit, wondering what he was looking for.

He brushed his teeth, then began to change into his pyjamas. Knowing they'd need the lights off for him to rest, she began to do the same.

"Anthea?" he said as she started to pull back her covers.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Yes?"

"This is. That is to say, I'm not...I don't." He took a breath. "I'm not offering sexual favors of any kind, not even so much as a kiss or a caress or any kind of innuendo you might be able to cook up just to make me red in the face. But we could find out if it would help me rest? I think it would. And," he said a bit uncertainly, "you owe me now, because of the state of my backside."

"I blame your mother for the state of your backside," Anthea grinned, then seemed to sober, turning round to face him. "I think it's a very good idea," she said. "We'll be a bit close, of course, but I don't mind. Do you?"

"I don't _think_ I do. Come." He lifted up the corner of the covers for her. She settled into his bed as he turned out the main lights, leaving only the lamp by the side of the bed. He got into the bed on the opposite side, easing into her outstretched arms. 

Anthea turned the lamp off. Their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Their bodies adjusted to each other.

"This is actually pleasant," he said in the darkness, sounding surprised.

"Hey!" she said. 

He chuckled and found her hand with his hand.

"Our palms're gonna get sweaty," she complained.

"Perhaps you just need to be a bit more playful," he said smugly. Then, he paused. "Never mind," he said quickly. He released her hand. "I don't want to see you at your most playful just yet. I take it back. I really do."

She found his hand in the darkness. "I'll just take this back too, then. Now we're even."

He laughed, and she held the sound close to her heart, as she always did. 

***

Mycroft, not usually a morning person, eyed her with a brightness and a softness she wasn't used to seeing in him. 

"I like you like this," he commented. Anthea reached up to her hair, combing her fingers through it a bit. 

"No you don't," she said. "You can't." She self-consciously used the back of her hand to do a bit of a breath check, wincing. 

He pressed a kiss to his fingertips and pressed them to her lips. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Seriously, have you taken something?" she asked. "Are you high?"

He giggled and reached out, tugging her closer. "I'm not sure if last night was one of my best, but I think this morning is a very good morning." He nuzzled her cheek before pulling away and going to brush his teeth.

She stared at his arse in his pyjama pants, slowly licking her lips. She winced when he caught her at it, but, to her surprise, he slowly smiled around some toothpaste.

It really was a good morning. It was a playful morning.


End file.
